1 Witch.
Why, how now, Hecate? you look angerly.

Hec.
Have I not reason, beldams as you are?
Saucy and over-bold! how did you dare
To trade and traffick with Macbeth,
In riddles and affairs of death?
And I the mistress of your charms,
The close contriver of all harms,
Was never call'd to bear my part,
Or shew the glory of our art?
And, which is worse, all you have done
Hath been but for a wayward son;
Spiteful and wrathful, who, as others do,
Loves for his own ends, not for you.
But make amends, now; get you gone,
And at the pit of Acheron,
Meet me, i' th' morning: thither he
Will come, to know his destiny;
Your vessels and your spells provide,
Your charms, and every thing beside.
I am for th' air: this night I'll spend
Unto a dismal, fatal end.
Great business must be wrought, ere noon;
Upon the corner of the moon
There hangs a vap'rous drop profound;
I'll catch it ere it come to ground;
And that distill'd by magic slights,
Shall raise such artificial sprights,
As, by the strength of their illusion,
Shall draw him on to his confusion.
He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear
His hopes 'bove wisdom, grace and fear:
And you all know, security
Is mortals chiefest enemy.* ^note

Witches within.

Witch.
Hecate, Hecate,—come away.

Hec.
Hark, hark, I'm call'd,
My little merry airy spirit see,
Sits in a foggy cloud, and waits for me.

Witch.
Hecate, Hecate. (within)

Hec.
Thy chirping voice I hear,
  So pleasing to my ear,
  At which I post away,
  With all the speed I may.
Where's Puckle? Enter Witches.

Witch.
Here.

Hec.
Where Stradling?

Witch.
Here.
  And Hopper too, and Hellway too.
  We want but you, we want but you.

3 Voi.
Come away, come away, make up th'account.

Hec.
With new fall'n dew,
  From church-yard yew,
  I will but 'noint, and then I'll mount.
Now I'm furnish'd for my flight. [Symphony, whilst Hecate places herself in the machine.
  Now I go, and now I fly,
  Malkin my sweet spirit and I,
  O what a dainty pleasure's this,
    To sail in the air,
    When the moon shines fair,
  To sing, to dance, to toy and kiss,
  Over woods, high rocks and mountains;
  Over hills and misty fountains;
  Over steeples, tow'rs, and turrets,
  We fly by night 'mong troops of spirits.

Chor.
We fly by night 'mong troops of spirits. [Exeunt. ^note End of the Third Act.

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